An actual post about the Czech Republic!

Because I actually am studying in Prague, and ALL of my previous posts have been about travel, I thought it was about time to say a thing or two about Prague and my experience here overall.  After being here for almost 3 months now (wow, that's crazy), I feel like there are a few things that I can say that I wasn't sure if I was allowed to say before.

First of all, I like speaking English.  Americans and British people are spoiled because so much of the world and most of Europe speaks some degree of English.  But, I think that I recognize this fact, which helps when I don't "expect" everyone else to speak English and realize that when I am in another country, they are really accommodating me by speaking my language.

Second, although I love Europe and can appreciate so much of the culture, I love America and think it's the best country in the world and would never want to live anywhere else.  I was really nervous about displaying the "arrogant America" stereotype while here, and while by no means have I completed avoided this, I think I have learned to appreciate other cultures while still holding onto the fact that I like my home culture the best.  This, of course, is a "duh" moment and makes sense.

Doug, Rachel, and I overlooking a scenic part of the Vltava River on our walking tour class.

Third, European culture is sometimes strange.  I take that back immediately:  there is no "European" culture per say, as every country is really different.  But each country's culture has small little quirks that sometimes make me turn my head and wonder why this is happening.  For example, Czechs are pretty quiet and reserved in almost every area of life, yet they are not shy to engage in public displays of affection.

I think that Americans sometimes view Europe as one big United States, with the countries as different states.  This is at least partly how I viewed it before coming here.  However, though moving from Czech Republic to Germany is as easy as going from Pennsylvania to Ohio, as soon as you cross the border EVERYTHING changes.  It's not like changing from Penn St fans to Ohio St fans, it is much more drastic.  Language, currency, history, culture, government, work ethic...literally everything changes.  Even degree of religiosity and sense of nationalism change immediately.

Fourth, I think I've learned to appreciate nature more recently.  Prague boasts a wide and varied array of parks, from Petrin Hill across the street with amazing views of the city to a park called Stromovka where we went just this week, which is enormous and has great green spaces and natural wildlife.  Not to mention crazy ducks that were feeling spring fever and mating season while we were there.  Part of this could appreciate could be the fact that Erie, PA, has very few city parks outside of the peninsula, but I think that for a city of Prague's size they have excellent caretaking of green spaces.

Another thing to note is that every day it gets warmer, and every day more tourists come.  The temperature is directly proportional to the amount of people in this city, and it is so irritating.  Prague is not a big city.  Old Town's streets are not wide.  So when thousands upon thousands of people are added to the mix it is impossible to get around these areas without running into someone every five seconds.  The amount of people wandering around with maps in front of their faces, even near my apartment (which is slightly less touristy), has gotten to be a bit much for my liking.

Do I sound snobby?  Perhaps, as this was me just a few months ago.  But, as I've said before, I really don't consider myself a tourist here.  By now, I know too much of the language and culture to feel like a true outsider, though by no means am I a permanent resident or native Czech person.

I'm not sure this post made sense, but I guess the bottom line, what I'm trying to say, is that a theme of acceptance has more or less fallen over me.  I can accept that Europe is strange sometimes and that I love America, while understanding that not everyone is the same.  I accept that I am lucky to be a native English speaker but that I should try to learn a little bit of the language in other places I go.

To wrap up this post, I'll just briefly share that we went on a wine tasting trip yesterday to Litomerice, a city about an hour north of Prague, close to Terezin (concentration camp).  We visited the town, had one of the best meals I've had in Europe at this great restaurant there (where we were pleasantly surprised to learn we did not have to pay; apparently our UPCES fee covered this, and it was a pretty extravagant lunch for the Czech Republic), and also visited a castle where Anna, one of our program directors, grew up.  That's right, her family was responsible for maintaining the castle, so from birth until 20ish she grew up in a castle.  Talk about fun house parties.

 

Drew and I hanging out on one of the Hapsburg's sofas; a peacock at the palace..

We then went to the oldest wine cellar in the country and got to sample 7 different wines over cheese, bread, and some ham.  It was really really fun, and one of the cool moments I'll remember from abroad.  I liked some of the wine, others not so much, but it was all a good experience.  Wine does not hold the same place of importance as beer in this country.  But, I also won a bottle of white, so I'm going to see if I can take it back to the U.S. with me to share with my family.

The wine cellar; me and Ahbra at wine tasting.

This weekend is gorgeous, so I'm going to go back outside or figure out evening plans.  My friend Jaime is visiting with some friends from Florence, so it has been fun to show them around with such nice weather (even though the tram is under construction and has made getting around difficult).

Look for another post Monday or Tuesdayish, before my last trip of the semester to Budapest/Vienna.  Until then-

Deky Na schlad, Ahoj, Cao!

Munich, Ein Prosit, Prost!

If you have never seen the movie "Beerfest" before, I would encourage you to either go rent it or find some clips on youtube from the movie before reading this post.  Because basically, that is what I just witnessed in Munich (although apparently on a smaller scale than the Oktoberfest featured in the movie).

As one of the final trips of my semester (geez, am I really saying that already?), I felt that a trip to Munich for the kickoff of its annual "Frulingsfest" was definitely in order.  Springfest is a carnival in Munich, and also a beer festival.  The bigger and more expensive beer festival comes with Oktoberfest in the fall, which evolved out of a royal tradition (so we learned).  But, Springfest was going to have to do.  And yes, it sure met expectations.

Although Berlin was not my favorite city I've been to, I thought I would give Germany one more shot, as the train is just so easy to use and Germany is a very important country.  Munich is different from Berlin in almost every aspect.  Just like New York and California are different states with vastly different cultures, Munich is the capital of the German state of Bavaria, home to some of Europe's richest traditions and best beer.  Berlin is one of Germany's poorest cities, and Munich is one of the richest.  Both cities experienced some heaving bombing during WWII, but Munich has been rebuilt in a much more "cozy" fashion, without the huge avenues and fast open spaces that make Berlin seem windy and lonely at times.  Munich is also a smaller city, about the same size as Prague, so have a smaller city/town attitude with the people.

The "famous" clock in Munich called the Glockenspiel, which according to our tour guide is rated the number 2 worst tourist attraction behind Prague's astronomical clock; a market in Munich.

Bavarians are also much different from the few Berliners I met.  That sentence should give you a clue as to the fact that we met many more Bavarians/ Munich people than in our previous time in Germany, as they were more friendly, welcoming, and warm than before.  Everywhere we went, they did their best to speak English and help us out.  Granted, it was a beer festival, so people were pretty cheerful to begin with.  But nevertheless, it was nice to see.

Alright now, on with the weekend.  Two of my roommates, Seth and Ahbra, and I took a later train Thursday night from Prague to Munich.  Luckily for us, Munich is a train ride away, because the air traffic in Europe right now is in chaos due to the volcano.  I have many friends who were planning on coming to Munich, but couldn't make it; there were also hundreds of American college students who made it to Germany from Florence, Barcelona, etc., but then had to scramble and pay lots of money to find alternative ways home.  So yes, European flights are as messed up right now as you see on the news.

Anyway, we got to Munich pretty late, so we went to our hostel, where we had a really nice room for just the three of us, and hung out there before going to sleep.  The next day, we wanted to do something educational on this trip (aka, not just the beer festival), so we found our old reliable free tour and visited the city.

Munich has a clock that is almost as overrated as Prague's is when it goes off.  Like Berlin, many of the buildings were heavily damaged during  WWII, so much of what we saw looked older or was made to look older than it actually was.  It was definitely a western town, but still felt very cutesy or cozy.  We saw many of Munich's important sites, from the old church that supposedly the devil helped build, to the tower where Hitler and Goebbels celebrated the Beer Hall Putsch by instigating Kristallnacht (the night of the broken glass - one of the worst pogroms in Jewish history), to the famous Hofbrauhus, a "royal" beer hall that is one of the most famous places in Munich (and that place is enormous).

The streets of Munich, and the famous Hofbrauhus logo on the side of the building.

I also learned something that I had been wondering since Munich, which was the question of how German schools deal with their past, especially when teaching history in the last 100 years.  According to our tour guide, German history education is unequaled anywhere in the world.  Besides knowing more about your own country's history than you do, he said that a recent poll showed 4 out of 5 German 10-year olds could have an intelligent conversation about Adolf Hitler and the Nazis.  So, rather than shun their past, they spend more time in school talking about it than how long it took to happen.  There are small memorials scattered throughout the city as well, reminding the Germans what happened to ensure it will never get that bad again.

By mid-afternoon, we grabbed a quick bite, then headed back to the Therienwiess, the park near our hostel where the festival was being held.  It was a great carnival, complete with all the rides that make you throw-up because they spin so much, food and sweets galor, and lots of families during the day.  We  found the largest tent in the back of the fair, run by a beer company called Augustiner, and sat down just in time to watch the first keg being tapped (equivalent to throwing out the first pitch in baseball).

Seth and I in front of the Muchner Fruhlingfest, Munich Springfest, sign.

Honestly, during the first hour we were there, the three of us were intoxicated not by any liquid, but by the surroundings we were in.  Maybe that sounds cliche, but it was so true.  The atmosphere was so cheerful, as old and young Germans were simply enjoying their culture while listening to a German polka band.  Plenty of food was being served; I'm still not sure how they were able to cook so many half-chickens and soft pretzels as to keep the place going.

And yes, the beer was probably the best one I had ever tasted.  Fresh, cold, delicious...obviously there is a reason Munich is known for this.

A slowly rotating bar in the festival; a view of the Augustiner tent; most importantly, the pretzels and chicken.

We stayed for a while longer, then decided to check out other parts of the fair.  But, we knew too many people who were back that the original tent, so after a while we went back to see them.  A couple things were different by this point:  first, it was dark out, so many families had gone home and instead it was more of a party atmosphere.  Second, we actually had to wait in line to go in, because the place was so packed.  Third, upon entering the tent, we could see tons and tons and people dancing on tables, singing, and being merry.

Me, Seth, and Ahbra at Fruhlingfest; very traditional Germans wait to serve beer from the first keg; I'm still not sure if this little girl was drinking beer or apple juice, but I'm thinking beer.

This wasn't just a case of American college kids going on a spring break-like trip to party (though there was an element of that, which added to the overall atmosphere I thought).  Germans were living this up!  Men and women were dressed in the traditional Lederhosen or old-fashioned German dress.  There were all ages there, from kids my age to older Bavarians who had to be in their 70s or 80s.

The band had switched from traditional German music to a mix of German drinking songs and American pop music from today and oldies.  They played everything from "Ein Prosit," a toast, to "Sweet Caroline" and the Black Eyed Peas.  To be blunt, it is really hard to describe everything unless you were there.

As it got later, it got more and more crowded and rowdy.

That night, and also Saturday, were easily the highest average levels of drunkenness I will ever be around in my life.  Seriously, ever.  When you ordered beer, you ordered in LITERS.  That is about 3 American beers per order.  But, the thing about Bavarians (and Europeans in general it seems), is that they know how to handle themselves, drink, and have a good time.  We rarely saw anyone who was "too" drunk that they couldn't stand or speak or function normally.

The tent closed at 11pm, so our original plan was to take a short rest at the hostel and then go out to explore some other nightlife.  However, after our nap, Ahbra and I ended up going to another hostel and seeing my friend Jamie, who was in town also, and just hanging out there for a while.  We were pretty tired, and wanted to be able to celebrate the full day in Munich Saturday.  Unfortunately, my friend Carl's flight was cancelled from Barcelona.  So, even though he was supposed to stay with us Friday-Saturday, he didn't make it.

Since we had seen most of the good sights of Munich the previous day, we decided to sleep in Saturday and just relax at the Frulingsfest all day.  We went to a different tent first, about 1 pm, to have some lunch and pretzels and enjoy the music.  I must say, the chicken and potatoes were excellent.  And of course, the pretzels were amazing.  I have a slight obsession with soft pretzels at home.

The Hippodrom tent, where we had lunch and listened to traditional Bavarian music.

Since springfest is smaller than Oktoberfest, there were really only the two main tents.  So eventually, mid-afternoon, we went back to the other one.  Though it was early, there were already hundreds of people on tables (the tent could hold several thousand, it was enormous) dancing and having fun.  When we got closer, we realized that it was a huge reunion of Big Ten students from Michigan, Indiana, Wisconsin, and Penn State.  During breaks in the music, school cheers broke out.  Almost every American studying abroad in Florence seemed to be there, many from Barca whose flights weren't cancelled, and a few from Prague.

So, that was an interesting experience I'll have in my head from the trip.  Since it was really crowded, none of us really wanted to give up our table once we finally found one, so we took turns sitting and having food and drink and walking around the festival or town.

Soon enough, it got dark again, and things got crazy just like the night before.  It was one of the most fun nights I've ever had, as literally not a single person was sad or in a bad mood.  We met too many Germans too remember all their names that night, who taught us everything from Bavarian customs to German toasts.

Dancing on tables was so fun!

We saw some of the most random things ever as well.  One guy was moving around on roller skates (which security wasn't too happy about, but whatever).  People were dressed up as both a chicken and a cow, and also super mario.  One of the waiters, who we assumed were all German, turned out to be from Connecticut; he must have German parents or something.  The band played the Beach Boys, and Seven Nation Army a lot (which is a Big Ten football staple).  I saw people from Michigan who I didn't even know were studying abroad.

You can see the band, and also the people dancing in a mix of "regular" and traditional Bavarian clothes.

Such was Frulingsfest in Munich.

Sadly, we departed back for Prague early Sunday (though again, extremely lucky we could take a train). If it seems like this post is all about one big party in Munich, I'd like to say you are wrong, but nope, it basically was.  I'm allowed to have a weekend like this once in a while, plus the cultural traditions we witnessed were astounding.

It's not that we went looking to simply party.  The Germans/Bavarians have this as a HUGE part of their lives.  They all know every single drinking song the band played, and probably have known them from an early age.  Bavaria is a special place, and definitely worth visiting sometime (Oktoberfest, yes, if you can book a hotel room early enough or are willing to pay the jacked-up prices as hostels).

I'm back in Prague now for two weeks, with one more trip planned to Vienna and Budapest the last weekend in April.  Again, feel free to make comments or send me an email/facebook.  Until then-

PROST!

Real Madrid: Parte Dos

Alright sports fans...leeeeeet's get ready to rumble!  The theme of this post is most definitely sports.  For anyone who knows me, you know that sports are a big part of my life.  I'm a fan, what can I say.  I appreciate the culture, really get into rooting for my teams, and can appreciate a special moment in sports when I see it.  Phil Mickelson winning the masters = special moment.  Michigan football not having a losing record = will be a special moment.  Etc. Etc.


After Parque del Retiro on Saturday, Alex and I went back to get Jake and Kate at the hostel to go down to Estadio Santiago Bernabeu, home of the Real Madrid Football Club.  Saturday night was special.  We were unbelievably fortunate enough to experience "El Clasico" between Real and FC Barcelona.  The only way we got tickets was because Jake's dad, luckily, is a ticket broker; these were not tickets normal people could easily access.


The sun was still shining brightly when we left for the stadium about 6 pm.  Actually, it is worth mentioning how late the sun set in Madrid, as we were so far West in the time zone it probably should've been in the same time zone as London (one hour behind the rest of Europe).  It is crazy to think that Krakow and Madrid, probably a three hour plane ride, are in the same time zone!


Anyway, this was equivalent to the Super Bowl of Spain, and one of the biggest games in Europe/ the world of club soccer, of the year.  Part of the reason is because Real Madrid and Barca are two of the top 5-6 teams in the world.  In Spain, in La Liga, they are by far number two and number one, respectively.  Historically, they have always been the two richest and most successful teams in Spain, which is either the number 1 or 2 national league in Europe (behind England).


But a HUGE part of the reason is that this rivalry is straight-up political:  Barca hates Real, and Real hates Barca, in large part because Barca/Catalunya feels like it shouldn't even be part of Spain, of which Madrid is the capital.  This sentiment comes roaring through in this rivalry, in its cheers and taunts back and forth, in the fact there were riot police surrounding the Barca fans, and in the intensity of the atmosphere.  To be blunt, which I think I need to be to convey the harshness of this hatred, it is like Michigan vs. Ohio State on crack.


And we were all so pumped up to be seeing this event in person.  Alex didn't even believe me at first when I told him we got tickets to the game, and still wasn't fully convinced until the ticket guy hand delivered these season ticket cards to us the night before.


I feel like most Americans, while not truly understanding or caring about soccer, have heard stories about  how intense international soccer fans can be.  Occasionally, SportsCenter will run some clip at a game when fans set off flares in the stands, fight with each other, or cause general mayhem.  Well, we got all of that and more at the game.

The metro, Nike is everywhere:  "If you think that you are perfect, you will never be it."

Entering the metro to Bernabeu, we were just ecstatic.  The guy working at the hostel front desk was shocked we were going; Alex's family thought it was so cool; even my mom said it was making a little bit of news in the U.S.  We got off the stop, and walked down the tunnel, passing posters of Ronaldo, Madrid's famous goal scorer, and Nike posters pumping up the crowd.

The area around the stadium was in a pre-game frenzy.  I'm not exaggerating when I write about all this craziness.  It is all true, and it was all a once-in-a-lifetime experience.  We got to the stadium hours early and it was already buzzing.  The first thing we all did was buy some Real gear.  I am officially adopting them as my team, and even Kate, who really likes Barca, bought some Real gear and cheered for them during the game because, truthfully, we all wanted to see what would happen if they pulled off the mild upset.

Santiago Bernabeu, where the fans were ready to go; clearly, so was I.

We enjoyed the crowd, admiring the taunts back-and-forth between Barca and Real fans.  We tailgated for a while, then somehow ended up on the front lines of each group of fans forming ranks, separated by riot police.  I'm not joking.  There was about a 50 yard separation between fans, with police keeping people separated.  At this point, I basically said, "Uh, let's keep going, move a little to the side."  I wasn't about to get tear-gassed, after all.  There were plenty of Barca fans and Real fans rallying together on our side of the police anyway.

"The front lines," complete with riot police with shields and horses and tear gas guns

The most amazing, terrifying, and definitively non-American part happened when the Real team bus arrived.  I'm just going to let you watch the video below, where I almost get trampled on by riot police horses, see flares going off, and see all the fans singing, "Viva Madrid."  These players are like gods.



It was incredible.  We all lost our breath from excitement and from how stunned we were that we were a part of this.  Notice in the video though that all the other people were filming and taking pictures also, so it was a crowd who understood how privileged we were to be there and what a special atmosphere we were taking part in.

Well, though the mayhem was seriously intoxicating to be around, we decided to head into the gates about an hour before kickoff to get to our seats, explore a bit, and absorb everything we saw.  If you've been to a big sports game, you know how it feels like energy is just going through your veins?  Well, we were definitely feeling that vibe the whole time.  Even now, it hard for me to describe, so sorry if this all makes no sense whatsoever.

Alex and I hold up our tickets; Jake, Alex, and I at our seats in the second deck corner.

We got to our seats, and got even more excited to see that we were in a hardcore Real section with excellent seats.  After taking some initial pictures, we walked over towards midfield to get a better view before kickoff.  Slowly, the crowd filled in and the cheers got louder and louder.  Finally, it was time for the game to start.

Various pictures from pre-game at El Clasico.

Unfortunately for Real, they were missing one of their best players and the key to their offense, Kaka (see, look at me, I know all about soccer now).  Plus, Barcelona is just really really good.  Their star Messi had the first goal, and they added another one in the second half to win 2-0.  But, the game was really secondary to the experience.  The passion pulsing from the fans was amazing.  It was tense, and it was a big letdown at the end of the game to see Real lose.  But, I know that I got to witness something special with El Clasico.  Plus, now I'll know a bunch of players when I watch the World Cup.

Barca scores a goal; of course, Messi had to get the game-winning goal.

The expectations for sporting events and its fans are just so different than the U.S.  Rules don't really apply, as people literally go nuts in the streets and in the stands.  I wish more Michigan fans were like this, even though I know culturally there would be so much push-back in the U.S.

A disappointed crowd exited Santiago Bernabeu, as we hit the metro and went back to our hostel.  By this point, we were exhausted, and relaxed in our room for a while before going to sleep.  Though we wanted to get going earlier the next day, it just wasn't going to happen, as we needed to rest.

We did get up eventually though, and moved from one hostel to our new one right off of Puerta  del Sol. It was nice as well, and kind of different, as it was basically a huge wing of someone's apartment.  But, we found it on hostelworld.com, so it was reputable and clean.  Though we wanted to check out the flea market in Madrid, we were too late, so we ended up walking around, getting some churros con chocolate at a famous place, and preparing for...

Cafe con leche and churros con chocolate, a very traditional and delicious Spanish snack.

A bullfight!  Sports round 2 in Madrid, except this time it was bull vs. matador, or toro vs. torrero.  Taking the metro to Plaza de los Toros, I could immediately see differences between this and the soccer game, though both were a HUGE part of Spanish culture.

Plaza de toros; me, Jake, and Kate outside the plaza.

The crowd was older, and more traditional Spanish.  This event seemed like a step back in time, as the whole experience could have happened in 2010 or 1910 for all I knew.  It wasn't as much the party atmosphere of soccer, rather one of culture and importance.  People were also dressed nicely for the most  part...I missed that memo, as I was wearing my jersey from the previous night.

A very traditional Spanish man, or Francista as Alex called it (someone around primarily during the dictatorship of Franco)

The stadium was beautiful.  It looked like something out of older times, but because it was so tradition it added to the whole experience.  Our tickets turned out to be great, which we had no idea beforehand.  We were in the second row of one of the fullest sections, filled with many Spanish people who obviously attend many bullfights.

Sitting next to us were a couple older Spanish women who were extremely friendly, even though I only understood a little bit of what they were saying.  Alex talked to them a lot, however, as he has become very good at Spanish.  They explained to us some of the customs surrounding the event, and answered questions like, "What happens to the bulls after they are killed?" (They are chopped up into pieces and sold as meat, just like old times).

The pre-fight parade.

**A small warning:  I'm going to be graphic with my descriptions, so if you are queasy or are a huge animal-rights advocate, sorry.

The bullfight itself was one of the most amazing, intense, bizarre, oldschool, cruel, elegant, strange, and wonderful things I've ever seen.  The matadors and the other people associated with the fight are dressed up in flowery and colorful gear.  There is a band that plays music to signal different stages in the bullfight.

First, the bull is released to the center ring, where it is teased and run-around for a while by some of the matador-like people (there is only one matador per bull, who comes out at the very end with the red cape and actually kills the bull; he's the boss).  This tires the bull out a bit.  Second, as the band plays a different sequence, a couple guys on horses come out, and once the bull charges at the horse they guys stabs the bull in the back and pushes the point of the spear as far in as possible, to make the bull bleed and continue to weaken it.

The only way the horse survives is that it is blindfolded, so as not to get scared, and covered with what is basically armor (not metal, but an extremely tough material that the bull cannot pierce).  Of the six bulls, there was only one that was a problem at this stage, as it was able to take down the horse and had to be distracted so that the horse and rider could recover.  This same bull also came very close to jumping out of the ring, which drew gasps from the crowd and the ladies sitting next to us.

Down goes the horse!  One point for the bull.

Third, to further weaken it, the bull is run around and then speared with six different poles, which have hooks on the end so that the bull is "decorated" and the spears don't fall out.  I don't know all the specifics, but everything in this process has symbolism.  And, if something is not done right, it is not as honorable for the bull and for the matadors.

The bull is speared with decorated spears.

Finally, the matador comes out to the applause of the crowd.  By this point the bull has lost a lot of blood and is really tired, and fading.  The matadors, who were very young and relatively new for the bullfight we saw, each had a unique style of playing with the bull and getting dangerously close to it.  At the end, he takes his sword and attempts to thrust it through the bull's neck, killing it or paralyzing it instantly (and I guess as humanely as possible).  If he messes up, the crowd is not quite as gracious.  Because these were newer matadors, most of the stabs required multiple attempts.

Muy atrevido, very brave.  The matador, or torrero, is hard at work.

We were informed by our Spanish ladies that during May there is a big festival in Madrid/Spain, and that the fiercest bulls and best matadors are all on display.  At times during this process, it got really gory and bloody, as the bulls didn't always die right away.  Even after they collapsed, other workers would go stab a knife through its head to disconnect the brain stem and finally put the bull out of its misery.  Afterwards, a crew would come clean up the bloodied dirt to prepare for the next bull, as the bull was dragged away by horses dressed up in flowery gear.

The dead bull is dragged away

There were a total of six bulls in this particular fight.  The last matador was excellent, as he pulled off some daring moves close to the bull and needed only one thrust to take the bull down.  The crowd responded heartily, waving their white programs and handkerchiefs in the air in an attempt to urge the President of the bullfight/ arena to thrown a white handkerchief also, acknowledging that it was an acceptable bullfight and that the matador was the "winner."  Eventually, he did!

The matador then cut off the bull's ear as his "trophy," and paraded around the arena with it, waving to the crowd and accepting cheers of praise.  Many times through this whole process, I looked to my friends and wondered where in the world was I?  This couldn't be a western nation, could it?  What a crazy experience, but it normal culture in Spain.  PETA would be all over this in America; it just wouldn't happen.

It was an emotional experience for sure, gut-wrenching but extremely worthwhile to see.  And, Alex hadn't gone to a bullfight yet, so it was good that he got to do something new as well.

To wrap up our Spanish travels, we had to go find good paella, a Spanish rice dish with various things mixed in.  We did some internet/BlackBerry research and found a place that was ranked highly.  Though it was a bit of a walk, and sort of in the middle of some random alleyway, it was 100% worth it.  We got chicken and seafood in our huge paella vat, and it was amazing.  Of course, I think I'm a fan of most other food besides Czech food, but this was one of the better things I've had since I've been in Europe.

Sadly, I said good-bye to Alex after dinner, and went back to our hostel to take a few hour nap (because I had to take a 4:30 am shuttle to the airport for my early flight back to Prague Monday morning).  It was loud outside, so I hardly slept, but it didn't matter.  Spain was incredible.

To think that Spring break started in Amsterdam is amazing, as that seems so long ago.  I was able to see so much in just 11 days; my first "real" spring break trip was everything that I hoped it could be.  Though many people at home view Europe as one big country, and the different nations as equivalent to U.S. states, this trip really showed me that this is so inaccurate.  Each country is so distinct from the next, even though they are roughly the same size as U.S. states.  Even within countries, there is a ton of variation.  Appreciating these cultural differences will stick with me forever, hopefully.

That brings me back to Prague.  It was the first time in my travels I was okay but not eager to return to Prague.  I'm sitting in class now, and should probably pay attention instead of blogging, but I will share one more quick important fact.

Last night, I met a Czech student my age/ a couple years older.  Remember when my family toured the concentration camp Terezin?  Well, our tour guide, Vida, really wanted me to meet her son David when he came back from his studies in Germany.  So, last night I finally did.  We went to a pub near my flat, actually, and had a couple beers while talking.

He had a lot of interesting things to say.  As a student of similar age, it was really easy to relate to him, and he was just as curious about my studies, life in America, politics, my friends, etc. as I was in his.  He was studying law, but, like me, doesn't really know what he wants to do after he studies law.  He knew Czech, German, and English (was very fluent, barely an accent).  He had been to America once, three weeks in the NYC/Boston/New Hampshire area.  And, he was pretty well-versed in politics, which was great because as you know I can talk forever about politics.

Also, as a Jewish Czech, we could relate to each other a bit, just naturally I think.  Maybe because his mom was excited for us to meet, I'm not sure.  But, anytime I get to meet and talk to a Czech on a personal level I need to take advantage of it.  As we both agreed, far too many Americans come to Europe with a closed mind, comparing everything to America, viewing Europe as one place without acknowledging vast differences between states, and not taking cultural differences seriously.  Although, he did say many Czechs were closed-minded as well, though that is changing with the younger generation.  He also mentioned something I thought was kind of funny, that Czechs seem to have delayed reactions:  they didn't hate Germans until far after WWII; the biggest anti-Russian sentiment is now, not during communism.

Anyway, I just had to mention that before I forgot all the details, because I will probably not blog again before I leave for Munich tomorrow (yes, traveling again...I'm feeling more and more like I just want to stay in Prague, but traveling is almost done!).  A few of us are going to Munich's Spring Fest, a cultural festival and also a smaller version of Oktoberfest, the famous beer festival.  It should be a good time, and I'm expecting a much different city that Berlin (Munich is the richest city in Germany; Berlin is the poorest, with a lot of alternative culture, etc.).

I hope you enjoyed the spring break posts.  It was quite the 11 days, and I would recommend everything I did to anyone who wants to travel to Europe.  Please feel free to share any thoughts you have!

Ahoj!  Cao!

Real Madrid: Parte Uno

Madrid is also one of those cities that most people have heard of, and can even what country it is in.  Because the second language in the U.S. is Spanish, I expected Madrid to feel a bit more comfortable, as I had taken Spanish for several years, and because of our proximity to Mexico, I feel like I can understand the Spanish/Hispanic accent better than most other accents.

Be warned, my Madrid entries will contain a lot of pictures.  I took somewhere in the neighbhoorhood of 200 pictures plus 20 videos in 4 days, because everywhere was worth remembering to me.

Unlike Barcelona, Madrid is the center of true Spanish culture.  I enjoyed my time in Barca, but from the beginning I think I was looking more forward to Madrid.  Jake and I left early Thursday morning and arrived in Madrid ready to hit the sites, see some sporting events, and more.

Right away at the airport, things were different.  For one, Spanish was the main language on all signs, and English was second.  Catalan was nowhere to be seen (this is obvious, but still worth mentioning).  I didn't have to struggle as much to read the directions, which was important from our perspective.

For the first two nights, Jake and I were going to stay with our friend Alex, who I had seen in Amsterdam and am living with next year.  Alex is in a homestay for the semester in Madrid, which means that he is living with a Spanish family who wanted to house a foreign exchange student.  Many homestays are pretty small living quarters, so we were extremely lucky that he could have us over for a couple nights.

He gave us great directions from el aeropuerto and we hopped on the metro towards the center city.  This airport was great, because the metro came right to it.  We killed some time at a cafe near his metro stop, Moncloa, which was right around the corner from the largest and best university in Spain (and also home to 100,000 students!  Enormous by American standards).  Then, he came and met us and took us to his family's apartment down the street.

We were really fortunate that we could get a glimpse of a real Spanish home.  It was siesta time, so the madre of the family was home, and we got to meet her.  His family doesn't speak any English, so we could only really exchange hellos, but hopefully my nonverbal skills communicated how grateful I was for letting us stay there.  Plus, when you haven't been home or with family for so long, time spent with ANY family still feels nice.

After dropping our bags, Alex took us walking towards the city center, down his streets and Gran Via.  We walked by several theaters and cool shops, a massive department store, and more.  The architecture was cool, very European in appearance, and it was finally warm!

Puerto del Sol, and it was very sunny indeed.

Ham is very big in Spain, and Museo de Jamon ("Ham Museum") restaurants were everywhere.

We arrived in the beautiful Puerto del Sol, Door of the Sun, which was named appropriately based on the weather.  There was a lot going on in the oddly shaped plaza, from street performers to extremely good bakeries with one of the best chocolate things I've ever had, and more.  We took some pictures, and continued our overview of the city with a trip to Plaza Mayor.

It was really beautiful, and even though it was later in the day, there was still a ton of people strolling and touring and buying this and that.  These two places are the heart of Madrid, and you could really tell just by standing there.

Puerto del Sol; Jake and I are officially in the warmth of spring break!

The BEAUTIFUL Plaza Mayor, with me, Jake, and Alex.

Continuing on, we meandered over to Palacio Real, the Royal Palace.  Alex said he had never been in before because the lines were usually so long, but on this occasion we must have timed it perfectly because with a two minute wait we were in.  This palace was magnificent, truly, in every single way.  The views of the countryside outlining Madrid were great.  Inside the palace, we walked through the various banquet halls, living quarters, and, yes, throne room.  It was a legit throne room, with a big chair surrounded by plush carpets and statues of lions and everything.  I was able to sneak a couple pictures, even though Jake almost got thrown out by a cranky Spanish woman who was guarding the throne room from the mischievous people wanting to take pictures.  The armory was so impressive as well.

El Palacio Real; the Royal Armory; the Hall of Statues, where Spain signed the treaty of accession, joining the EU

By this point, we were pretty wiped from our travel day and walking around, so we headed back to Alex's on the metro to take a late siesta of our own.  A couple hours later, we grabbed some food at a good little place near the apartment (good food and delicious sangria, which they drink a lot of in Spain), and met up with some other people in Alex's program.  

We all went to a bar near the Moncloa area that had a weird, yet strangely tasty, drink called Leche Pantura (Panther's Pink).  It was a few different liquors mixed with milk that came out of a slaglamite-like structure built into the top of the bar.  You would think that it would be weird, but it was actually pretty good.  We got one of the smaller sizes to share, as they had size ranges of 1 Liter to 8 or 16 Liters of this drink!  My first day in Madrid was a success.

Friday, Jake and I decided we should do a museum day.  After a lazy start, we hopped on the metro and got off near El Prado Museo, the famous Prado Museum.  El Paseo Del Prado, the avenue near the museums, was really pretty to walk down on the way to the museum.  The Prado Museum was great, and I'm not a big museum guy.  Some of the masterpieces were huge and beautiful; my favorite was the 'Garden of Earthly Delights' which had three panels representing heaven, earth, and hell.  The details were striking.  We also checked out the modern art museum, Reina Sofia.  I'm usually a fan of modern art, and wasn't disappointed here.  They had a great collection of Dali especially, though I like modern sculptures and 3D art the best.

El Paseo del Prado; the outside of the museum; and me doing my thing at the Reina Sofia (thanks Dad for giving me this outlook on how to admire statues)

We met back up with Alex after the museums and went to a bar/cafe around the corner for dinner.  The food was fair, but the meal was entertaining due to an extremely intoxicated Spanish woman, a little older than us, who was making a scene at the restaurant.  She was resisting attempts to be calmed down, and wanted to go somewhere even though she was took drunk to walk.  Eventually, she shattered a glass all over the floor, slapped one of the guys she was hanging out with, and was promptly thrown out of the place.  Drunk idiots are drunk idiots no matter where you go in the world.

Friday night turned out to be really fun.  We went to one of the famous clubs in Madrid, Kapital, which had 7 stories and a massive dance floor.  There were not very many English-speakers there, which gave the club a really authentic vibe that night, which is what I usually like to see when I travel somewhere.  Although, I must say, the Spanish people we saw had a weird way of dancing, which is mostly head-nodding and not moving a whole lot.  I have a feeling that is not typical everywhere though, where salsa and other dancing has to be more common.

That pretty much wrapped up the first part of our Madrid experience.  The next morning/early afternoon, Jake and I got up and moved out of Alex's family's house (sad face) and met up with another girl from Prague who was in Madrid, Kate, who we would be traveling with the next couple days.  We brought our stuff to our hostel for the night and then got to experience lunch in Plaza Mayor (yes, it was an experience).  Jake and Kate wanted to nap, so Alex and I went to Parque de Retiro, the major park in Madrid.

Such a hard life, having a lazy lunch in Plaza Mayor, ahhhh.

Though it was no Forest Park (for you St. Louis readers), it was huge and in full bloom of spring and beautiful.  There were people in small row boats all through this small little lake, and street performers, and ice cream stands left and right.  And yes, it definitely had a European feel because of the liberal approach people were taking to tanning and laying in the sun, PDA (public displays of affection) in a random grassy patch, and general behavior.  Actually, because in Spain many kids don't move out of their family's house until later in life (Alex's family had a 32-year old son living with them, which was perfectly normal), many couples escape to the park or other public places to have a bit of privacy.  Strange to think about by our standards, but hey, it's not America.

Alex and I couldn't have asked for better weather at Parque de Retiro.

But, this is where I must end part one of my Madrid tales.  It's just too long to put into one post, sorry!  Tune in tomorrow or the next day at the latest for the second installment, which features two of the coolest and most unforgettable things I will ever do.  Seriously, come back, you won't want to miss it.  Tell your friends.